


All That Glitters

by OldAmsterdam



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldAmsterdam/pseuds/OldAmsterdam
Summary: An unedited snippet of a fic that was going to delve into the character of Ashley being transported at the time of her death to 2000 and saving Hero and what would come after.  I'm not finishing chapter one for a variety of reasons, so here's what I had so far without any edits because....no point in editing something that's not going anywhere.  Full permission for anyone who wants to take this concept and do something with it to take from this.  I have a full set of basic plot notes available, feel free to message me.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	All That Glitters

**All That Glitters**   
_A Damsel No Longer_

* * *

Dying was never easy. The same primal fear arose no matter the circumstances of your demise: be it by your own hand or your enemies. There was an instinctive panic that surged through your body, like a child’s reaction to a static shock for the first time. No matter how strong you were, how in control you were, it was there, waiting to strike deep into your heart as it shuddered to a sudden stop.

I’d heard people describe almost dying as if it were falling deep into the ocean. Even without being to an ocean in all of my lives, I was pretty sure they were full of shit. Dying was painful, and even for someone of my stature there was no dignity, no metaphorical beauty, in the pain or the incoming blackness. As my blood pooled underneath me and the dim lighting turned even dimmer, as those who fought alongside me left, and as the disgrace that had been my sibling was finished, I embraced yet another death.

The moment I allowed myself to die it happened. Simultaneously with the release of my last breath there was a flash of light that penetrated the fog that had creeped and sloughed its way into my brain. And in that flash I felt the core of my being ripped out of the husk that was my body. Standing over my own corpse, I watched with a growing trepidation as an almost emerald green light spread out from me, slowly oozing out of every hole and wound, until it coiled and mixed with the pool of red beneath me.

It pulsed, once, twice, three times before it began to pulse with an increasing regularity. And with each pulse I recoiled, something beating against the very essence of my being, and a growing sense of urgency filled me. The eyes of my body flashed, bright white, between the beats of green, the strobes of color quickening sickeningly.

Then all at once it stopped, the green firmly smothering out the white, and slowly it receded back into my corpse.

_thump_

_ thump _

_thump_

**thump...thump…**

**THUMP**

Green flashed, spearing out from the darkness, hooking deep into my core. Twisting, slithering, forcing itself deeper until I could taste the vibrations pulsing through me. Corrosive, invasive, searing at my mind and spirit like the touch of venom from what felt like hours ago. The shadows shifted, boiling in the pervasiveness of the green, while the pulsing flayed reality apart at the seams. Like a demented drum it pulsed, louder and quicker and resonating through the fractured remains of reality.

All at once it all stopped, everything freezing with baited breath. The next instant it pulsed inside me with enough force to tear me in half. _Again_ , the thought came unbidden, as the pulse tore and tugged and ripped and yanked in every direction and no direction at the same time. Everything was infested. Breaking, ripping, shredding, dying, falling—

I gasped, driving forward in a jolt with the sudden influx of _feeling_. Brisk air whipped my face while screams and yelling speared into my ears, a chaos of stimuli assaulting me at every turn. Bright lights erupted across my vision, quickly followed by a concussive force pushing me back several feet. My eyes, barely adjusting to the light, were clouded again with the wave of dust from the impact of _something_.

Despite my best efforts to remain strong, I staggered from the overwhelming amount of sounds and feelings around me. Yelling, impacts, lights. So much—too much—when I could feel the green still lingering within me.

Something danced through the haze, flickering in and out of vision, appearing closer and closer with each beat of my heart. Recognition sparked in me, too late, but my arms were already raised. Thunder, defending crashing, and the haze obliterated in front of me alongside the monster I knew too well.

Siberian disappeared mere inches in front of me, and my knees hit hard, cold ground in the same heartbeat. Pavement? It didn't matter. He'd be back, probably, and I still needed to figure out where I was. Two reunions on the same day?

"Hey, are you okay?!" a man's voice broke through my swirling thoughts. His armored legs entered my vision, and I found my gaze trailing upwards cautiously. Blue highlighted with gold, chain mesh, a helmet that showed the thin line of his mouth underneath a gold tinted visor. My eyes caught a stylized PRT emblem on his shoulder, again in gold, but for the obviously important look I couldn't say who he was.

"Stay back, Hero, I can't control it," a rough, inhuman voice interrupted my musings. It was faintly echoing, as if many mouths unaccustomed to human language attempted speech together and failed ever so slightly. Warped like my power.

“It’s dangerous enough to completely eradicate the Siberian with no trace left behind,” another man spoke up from behind me. Looking around I recognized the source of voices as the Triumvirate (Protectorate?) assembled around me warily. A hint of fear in their demeanor, and something that left more questions than answers. Hero had been dead for...almost twenty years when the Siberian had—

Was this purgatory? A punishment for my failures to be left to live in the memories of the past?

“She saved me,” Hero’s voice interrupted the storm of questions. “Doesn’t seem like any kind of projection or power effect we’ve seen before.”

“Neither was the Siberian,” Alexandria’s voice cut in, hard and firm in a way that made my pulse quicken.

“You don’t know the first thing about the Siberian,” I said with a side-glance at the woman as she towered over me. Her face was remarkably impassive at the comment, though the others that I could see exchanged looks of surprise at my words. A slight shift of my head confirmed my suspicions of Legend hiding behind me. Surrounded, by arguably some of the most powerful capes in the world. If I were a lesser person I’d be concerned. “So since I saved your life, that means you owe me a life debt.”

“What do you want?” Hero asked with a slight tilt to his head.

“Let’s start with something simple. You could always be my assistant. But for now you can tell me why I’m here. Wherever here is.”

“Eidolon summoned you. I suspect you’re some kind of projection, perhaps, in line with the shades that Glastig Uaine took from her victims.”

“You’d be wrong,” I said flatly. “Next question. How are you alive?” I pointed at everyone except for Legend with the question.

“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. I don’t know why I expected any different from any of you, really. Then tell me what Earth we’re on?” I didn’t miss the piercing look that Alexandria affixed me with. A sly smirk lifted my lips ever so slightly at the reaction.

“Earth Bet. Are you saying that Eidolon summoned you from Aleph?”

“I do believe I’m the one asking questions here.” Slowly I transitioned into a sitting position, tossing my hair behind me, and regarded my captive audience. PRT agents had moved into a loose formation around us, keeping well out of the way, and while some had weapons raised I noticed more were observing me with open confusion. I had more of the people present hooked than not. Time to get them under my thumb properly. “The Siberian will be back, you know. Projections tend to do that.”

“She’s not a projection.”

“Oh, except she is. Controlled by a certain man. A brother, if you will, based on certain events in my past. Kinda short, bland. Let himself go a bit. I’m sure you’d recognize him.” With a raised eyebrow I shrugged. “But that’s none of my concern. You brought me here, brought me back. And not only do you owe me, but you need me. Far more than you even realize.”

“Enough of this.” Eidolon practically growled the words. A tactic I imagined he liked to employ to scare the few who wouldn’t just bow and kiss his feet. Unfortunately for him I already knew my place, and it certainly wasn’t beneath him. “You do not get to flaunt around and pretend that you can boss us around. Submit now or I’ll make you.”

“I submit to no one. Least of all you. At the end of the day, I know far more than you could hope to. Even with Contessa puppetting you around like the tools that you are.”

The reactions were instantaneous. Even the ever made-of-stone Alexandria couldn’t hide the surprise that broke her mask. Though it didn’t last for long before Eidolon had blanketed our little group in some kind of field, the PRT agents on the outside seemingly frozen in place from where they looked in on bewilderment. I couldn’t really blame them; it wasn’t every day that they would run into someone like myself.

“Is it every day you attempt to bully a young woman who won’t give you what you want into giving herself to you, Eidolon?” I asked slyly. “Really now, you should be thanking me. I’m going to save your lives several times over. Well, maybe anyways. Ultimately that's up to your choices now. We could be allies, you know.”

The statement hung in the air for a moment before I added, "The Siberian couldn't stand to my power. And neither will you."

"What do you know?" Alexandria took the lead, her voice hard.

"I know that you're all fake capes, for one. That your little shadow group ruins a lot of lives for nothing, for two. That you don't even get the excuse of stopping Scion to make up for what you put people through."

**Author's Note:**

> Goodbye.


End file.
